


Auld Lang Syne

by UP2L8



Series: Sex Shop AU [3]
Category: Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types
Genre: High School Drama Revisited, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-03
Updated: 2019-01-03
Packaged: 2019-10-03 15:34:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,676
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17286737
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UP2L8/pseuds/UP2L8
Summary: Should auld acquaintance be forgot.





	Auld Lang Syne

**Author's Note:**

> Look! Another one! This one kind of went in a direction I did not anticipate, but here it is. Happy New Year!

Eight o’clock in the evening, Thursday. The sun had long since set behind the cold winter horizon, and Edward, not for the first time, wondered just what he had done to deserve his dismal fate. He was tired, hungry, and at work. Which meant he would not be getting anything to eat anytime soon, would not be getting to sleep soon either, and he was at work. Worse yet, Al was still in the hospital, and probably would be for another week. Three days into the new year, and what was the big deal? Nothing had changed, nor was it likely to in the near future. 

Happy New Year? Bullshit. 

Jad Sahib had brought the stock order early that morning, but Berta hadn’t bothered to so much as check over the packing slip let alone put up the stock, so now Ed and Becca were stuck with the task. To be fair, Berta had been alone on the early shift, and if the morning had been anything like the rest of the day, she’d probably been too busy. 

It wasn’t busy now, there were two of them, and this had to get done before they left. They had an hour until closing, and neither wanted to stay late. Ed took on the task of sorting and shelving the order while Becca checked it off on the packing slip, in between serving the odd customer. 

The door balls jingled their merry tune and Ed looked up from his crouch, elbow deep in a box of assorted cock rings. 

Speaking about odd customers . . . 

Russell Tringham had walked into the store and immediately froze at the sight of Ed. As well he should. Ed hadn’t seen him since he’d graduated from Porter High. Russ and his squad were the kind of assholes who thought it was fun to pick on people who couldn’t fight back. They’d thought Ed fell into that category. They were wrong. A couple probably still had scars. It had been the most satisfying suspension Ed ever served. He broke out his widest barbwire grin. 

Russ finally found his voice. “Hey Elric.” He was trying for nonchalance, brushing that stupid flap of hair out of his eye just so it could fall back into the exact same position, but the way his eyes were darting around the store was a testament to his substandard acting skills. “You work here?” 

A thousand possible answers crossed his mind in the split second it took Ed to respond. No, this cardboard box went into labour and I’m helping to deliver its cock ring babies. No, I’m the finalist in a cock ring stacking contest. No, I’m a customer. I always buy cock rings by the crate. The savings make it worth my while. 

Standing up, he defaulted to, “Sure do. Can I help you?” And fuck those people who thought he couldn’t be professional. 

Tringham was staring at his chest, and Ed realized why. He was wearing his new and probably all-time-favourite-from-now-on sweatshirt. 

A Christmas gift from Winry. Black, with large white lettering, it declared: Particle Physics Gives Me a Hadron. She had given it to him as a joke, probably never expecting him to wear it, let alone on the job. But really, she should have known better considering where he worked. Ed knew it was going to be a hit on campus too. 

Russell’s eyes drifted back to Ed’s face, and he tried on a smirk. “I’d rather she helped me,” he said, tilting his chin at Becca. “You’re not my type.” 

Edward and Rebecca simultaneously pointed at the warning sign behind the cash register. 

Russ read it, then held up his hands in mock surrender. “Geez, it was just a joke.” 

Given his preferred form of amusement had once involved picking on younger students, it was no wonder nobody found Russell particularly funny. 

Becca stepped up to the task reluctantly. “So, what are you looking for? Something for yourself? Something for your partner?” 

Russ shot a look toward Ed, who had gone back to sorting the stock order. “Um. My partner.” He glanced over at the dildo wall. 

Becca caught it and led the way. 

Edward kept his attention on his task, not in the least interested in what good ol’ Russ wanted or needed to get his rocks off. Legs crossed sitting on the floor, he couldn’t help but hear some of Becca’s side of the conversation, but Russell was speaking as quietly as possible, and Ed didn’t really give enough of a shit to wonder. That’s why he was surprised when Tringham suddenly rounded on him and glared across the store. 

“I know what you’re thinking Elric!” he shouted, furious. “And you can just shut the fuck up!” 

Edward just stared. What the fuck? 

“Yeah, that’s right!” Tringham’s face twisted with disgust. “Maybe I need a little help to keep things rolling, but at least I can get someone into my bed. Think I don’t remember? Gym? The locker room? Most of us couldn’t keep our eyes off you, and believe me, we tried. I’ve always wondered what could have left scars like that. It looked like you fell into a meat grinder. Who the hell would want to fuck that?” 

Rebecca was standing open-mouth with shock, but her face quickly darkened with anger. “I think you need to leave,” she said. 

“I agree,” a deep, confident, familiar baritone seconded that motion. 

Ed hadn’t even noticed the door balls chiming when Mustang had walked in. Under the circumstances he thought he could be forgiven the oversight. 

“Yeah, when I’m done,” Tringham said, glaring at the new arrival. “Gimme the cheapest vibrator you got. That pink butterfly thing will do.” 

“I don’t think-” 

“Forget it, Becca,” Ed cut her off. “Sell him what he wants so he can get the hell out of here.” Business was business, and he really didn’t care enough about Russell’s opinion of him to be affected by his words beyond the initial shock of the unexpected attack. It wasn’t like he didn’t know who Russell Tringham was. He certainly wasn’t going to get into it with this asshole. 

And he could feel Mustang close behind him. He turned to look. 

He had always thought that the expression ‘a sight for sore eyes’ was ridiculous. Now? He kind of got it. Standing tall at Ed’s back – only because Ed was still sitting cross-legged on the floor, obviously – stance relaxed but ready, dark eyes ice cold and locked on Tringham like gunsights. It gave Ed a strange feeling, like something coming loose in his chest, and the tight muscles of his jaw relaxed. He hadn’t even noticed the tension. Ed’s frown faded, making way for a small, involuntary smile. 

At that exact moment Ed realized he was in big trouble. He was attracted. Seriously. He couldn’t afford to be attracted. 

It wasn’t even because Mustang was hot as hell; it was so much more than that. The way he looked you straight in the eye when he spoke, cocky, sure, but easy going and with level respect. When Mustang had come into Pothos the first time, Ed had him pegged as an arrogant asshole – until he knocked over the Christmas tree. The fact that he stuck around to clean up the mess surprised Ed. His honest, hopeful smile when he’d invited Ed for coffee surprised Ed even more. The second time Mustang had come into Pothos was the day Ed had to physically boot an overly aggressive douchebag out of the store. Ed had waited until the douche made his move before shutting him down, just so he could claim self defence if he needed to. And he had seen Mustang closing in to back him up. When Ed’s opponent had made his move, Mustang had tried to stop him. 

Now here he was again. 

In Ed’s corner. 

And apparently, Ed was staring. Mustang smirked and reached down, offering his hand. Ed ignored it and got to his feet. 

Becca was ringing up the sale as fast as she could, but unfortunately, she couldn’t move fast enough. Russell wasn’t done with Ed yet. Whatever he imagined Ed to be thinking was ratcheting his temper up higher by the second. Apparently the ‘incident’ back in high school was still a sore point for somebody, and that somebody wasn’t Ed. 

“I guess you feel good now, huh Elric, finding out some personal stuff about me since you couldn’t get me expelled from Porter.” His lips twisted. “Arzen had to get his lip stitched. Genz’ arm was in a cast for a month. All you got was a black eye. Nobody even _mentioned_ expelling _you_.” 

“I guess four sixteen year olds ganging up on a twelve year old seemed a bit unfair to them. Unbelievable, right?” And that was _enough_. He really didn’t want to get into it with this asshole. 

“So that makes it alright for you to look down on me now? Planning on getting revenge? Spreading some rumours? Gonna make a Facebook post about my bedroom issues?” 

It was hard to hold back. “Who the fuck do you think I am? You?” Ed asked coldly. 

“Yeah, always so high and mighty,” Tringham sneered. “Boy genius.” A derisive snort. “You thought you were so much better than the rest of us. But now we know who’s the better man, don’t we?” 

He really, _really_ wasn’t going to get into it with this asshole. “Yeah, I guess you got me beat. Congrats,” Ed said carelessly. 

“You better believe it. I got my BSc in Medical Technology and I’m working full time at my dad’s lab as a certified technician, making good money,” he said, smug grin firmly in place. “And you’re a lonesome loser working in a sex shop. Do the math, genius.” He took out his bank card and tapped it on the counter. 

Becca cued up the card reader. Her lips were a thin line. Mustang was standing behind him, so Ed could only imagine his expression. 

Okay. Maybe he was going to get into it with this asshole after all. 

“Gee, if you insist. I always did like to do math,” Ed said cheerfully. “I got my master’s degree in physical chemistry last year, and I’ll finish my graduate program in advanced material physics and nanostructures in May. I’m pre-approved for the doctorate program. Full ride. But I might delay it and brush up on my astrophysics. The Mars mission sounds like my kind of party.” He grinned. “I could be working in the University labs, or as a TA, or both, but I need more flexible hours right now. Pothos suits me fine.” 

Tringham ground his teeth together, battling a helpless rage. He sputtered for a moment. Then his eyes settled on Ed’s sweatshirt and lit up. “If you’re so fucking smart, how come you didn’t notice that ‘hard on’ is spelled wrong on your shirt?” He crossed his arms over his chest, secure in his victory. 

Ed looked at Mustang. Then at Becca. Mustang looked at his shirt and smirked. Becca snorted. Then they burst out laughing. 

“It’s all yours,” Mustang said, gesturing magnanimously toward a scowling Russell.  

Ed shook his head. “Why bother? He’s not worth my time.” 

Russell snarled as he snatched up his receipt and his purchase. He stomped to the door, ripped it open and tried to slam it behind him. When the hydraulic door cylinder made that impossible, he slammed his palm on the door frame instead and disappeared into the night. 

“Have a nice day! Come again!” Becca called brightly, waving at the slowly closing door like it was the Queen Mary leaving port. Then she turned to Mustang and Ed with a grimace. “That Russell guy really needs to get laid.” 

“Big time,” Ed agreed. 

Mustang just shook his head, exasperated. 

“Well, that was a whole lot of shitty drama for a twenty dollar sale,” Becca said, glancing at the wall clock. “Now we’ve got fifteen minutes to get this order processed and put away.” 

“Shit.” Ed sat back down on the floor next to a carton of We-Vibes. “What are you doing here Mustang? Need something?” 

Mustang looked at the collection of boxes and frowned. “I was going to see if you wanted to join me for coffee tonight. But . . .”

Did he? It was probably going to take at least an hour to put the stock order to bed, barring any problems, and to cash out. And Ed was tired. And hungry. Though he guessed that he could always get a donut or five with that coffee. And Al was still in the hospital, but Winry was there, and they’d already ordered Ed not to come after work, to get some sleep instead. So . . . 

What the hell. “I’m going to be another hour, at least,” he warned. 

“I can wait,” Mustang said immediately, his face lighting up with a smile that almost broke Ed’s brain. 

Ed and Becca got busy. When nine o’clock rolled around, the door was locked, and the closed sign was set in place. They continued to work while Mustang stood out of the way, offering comical opinions on the merchandise as it was unpacked. The man had a dry sense of humour that matched Ed’s own, and he had both Ed and Becca laughing out loud more than once. The time passed quickly. 

They were nearly done when Ed caught a look Mustang quickly smoothed away. A weighted, considering look. Ed knew Mustang had to be curious about what had happened earlier. It was only natural, after some of the stuff he’d overheard. Ed also knew the man wasn’t going to ask, which was kind of . . . nice. He decided to make it easy for him. Just this once. 

“What.” Ed prompted. 

“What?” Mustang was puzzled. 

“You want to ask something. Ask.” 

It took a moment for Mustang to phrase his question. “How old were you when you started high school?” 

Not the question Ed was expecting. Ed’s eyes were on the Swallow Hill Anime Sex Doll he was shelving. His attention was on Mustang. “I was twelve. I graduated just after I turned fourteen. Accelerated program.” 

And suddenly he was thrown back in time, remembering it all at once, looking at the big picture through older, wiser eyes, filtered through the perspective of experience and buffered by distance. He couldn’t deny that he’d learned a lot, both good and bad, about himself and about human nature in general. Hard lessons for the most part. High school had framed some of the worst years of his life. 

And it was _over_. All that shit was behind him, and he didn’t have to worry about it anymore. 

Something was still bothering Mustang. “Umm . . . how old . . . that is . . . can I ask . . .” 

Ed knew exactly what it was. “I’m nineteen, dumbass. I’d have to be at least that to work at Pothos. You can’t even walk in the door unless you’re legal.” 

Mustang’s sigh of relief was internal, but Ed heard it anyway. 

“Anichka didn’t want to hire me because she generally only hires women, and because of my ‘tender age’,” Ed rolled his eyes. “I was persistent, and she finally agreed. I don’t think she regrets it.” 

He slid the final package into place and looked back at Becca. She was locking up the safe under the checkout counter. They were done for the day. 

“So now you know something about me,” Ed said as they shut down the lights and headed for the door. “I want to know something about you. It’s only fair.” 

“Of course,” Mustang answered. “Ask away.” 

“What’s your first name?” 

The man smiled. “I’m Roy.” 

Roy had an amazing smile. 

Ed was still tired. And hungry. And Al was still in the hospital. And Ed had a long way to go before he was where he wanted to be. But things could be worse. Had been worse. And they weren’t even half as bad anymore. 

Maybe celebrating a New Year wasn’t complete bullshit after all.


End file.
